


Senses Working Overtime

by rabidchild67



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach rarely has to work this hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senses Working Overtime

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pinto de Mayo everybody!

Chris is humming. 

It's probably louder than he'd have done normally, but the noise canceling headphones are clearly screwing with his perception. 

Zach can see the moment he realizes this because he bites his lip and sighs out through his nose. A moment later he is calm again, and that's when Zach presses another finger inside. 

Chris's breath hitches momentarily, his hips squirm, but he's calm another moment later even if his abdominals are still tense. Zach leans in for a kiss but stops himself. Instead he hovers, and they breathe each other's air, close and moist, for long moments. He thinks Chris's eyebrows would rise expectantly if he could see them, but the cheap airline sleep mask obscures them. On a whim, he removes his fingers from Chris's ass and pulls away, standing beside the bed and just looking. 

Chris's legs fall open and relax. He shimmies his hips again, shifts his wrists in the restraints, getting comfortable. His face is quiescent, calm. Zach is reasonably certain it's an act; the twitching of Chris's dick as it lists sideways betrays its own impatience if not its owner's. 

Then Chris starts humming again. Zach thinks it might be _Battle Hymn of the Republic._

Zach sits back on the bed beside Chris and drags his nails lightly along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, up and down and up. Chris stops humming and lifts his chin in response, anticipatory, and for a moment Zach toys with the thought of kissing him but doesn't. Instead he leans forward and kisses the head of Chris’s cock. 

His lips are pursed, the touch light. Chris pauses in his infernal humming for a moment and Zach looks up, expectant. Chris switches tunes; he’s now humming something that sounds familiar but that Zach can’t place.

“Asshole,” Zach mutters under his breath – although why, he’s not sure because Chris can’t hear him – and deepthroats the cock before him in one motion.

He immediately regrets it, of course, because Chris is not ungifted in this area, and accommodating him is a challenge in the best of circumstances. But Zach refuses to give up even if he’s gagging and near-spluttering, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He eases off somewhat and tries again, with marginally better success, finally deploying his hand into the mix and massaging Chris’s dick from its base like a seasoned porn star. Spit is flowing copiously now, lubing up his hand and making for less friction. After a bit, he gets into a rhythm, his throat cooperating more readily now as the tip of Chris's dick eases further back in Zach’s throat on each bob downward.

Chris’s voice deepens somewhat in reaction, giving Zach _something_ to go on, at last, but increased speed and a bit of a tongue-swirl get him nothing more. Reaching down, he inserts two fingers into Chris's asshole again – lord knows there’s enough lubrication what with all the spit he’s produced – and the humming stops. Chris shifts slightly, and Zach presses his advantage, cupping Chris’s balls as he sinks his fingers all the way inside. He crooks them after a moment, seeking the right spot, pressing down on Chris’s balls with the heel of his hand.

“Oh,” Chris says, the first word he’s uttered since they began.

“Yahtzee,” Zach murmurs, then takes Chris’s cock into his mouth, continuing the blowjob with renewed vigor.

Chris is silent now, his breathing not so much uneven as non-existent. He’s holding his breath for some reason – fuck if Zach knows why – but he feels like it’s the first real reaction he’s earned tonight and he’s not about to squander it. He crooks his fingers, harder over the same spot as before, and Chris’s dick practically jumps in his mouth. Zach repeats it again and again, setting an irregular rhythm. He’s wondering what’s going to tire first, his hand or his jaw, when Chris begins to breathe again – a series of sharp little inhales that he finally releases in a single, measured breath, like he’s blowing up a balloon. 

Zach glances up again and sees Chris’s hands straining against their restraints, the right one nearly out, fingers splayed and thumb tucked in, like he’s flashing the number 4. Zach presses his advantage then, increasing the suction, his cheeks hollowing like he’s trying and failing to suck up a very thick milkshake. He’s suddenly relieved that Chris can’t see him like this, trying too hard and utterly ridiculous, and thinks if the kid doesn’t give in and come in the next two minutes he’s packing up his ball and heading home. 

Chris makes a sound like a mangled, high-pitched sigh and Zach can feel his balls drawing up. A moment later, he’s coming in pulses down Zach’s throat, who has never had to work so hard for this in his entire damn life.

He pulls off then, and slowly removes his fingers. Chris recoils slightly, everything over-sensitive. He’s breathing again, albeit a bit raggedly, which gives Zach at least a little sense of accomplishment.

Stretching out beside Chris on the bed, Zach reaches up to remove the sleep mask. Chris’s eyes are sparkling when they finally focus on him, and he smiles. 

“You enjoy yourself?” Zach asks, but of course Chris can’t hear him. Zach reaches up to take the headphones off, then undoes the wrist restraints. Chris, practically boneless, just lets his hands fall where they are and smiles goofily some more. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Zach repeats.

“What the hell kind of playlist you got on that thing?” Chris asks. 

“Playlist?”

“Yeah – on those headphones. It was super distracting – like, hymns and patriotic music. What the hell do you listen to when I’m not around?”

Zach picks up the iPod and has a look. He can feel his face redden – the iPod he’d been using was his mother’s. She must have forgotten it when she visited at Easter. 

“I just, uh… wanted to throw you off your game. Did it work?”

“Sure, only now I’ve got _Holy Holy Holy_ stuck in my head, you asshole.”

\---- 

Thank you for your time. 

You can also find me on Tumblr @rabidchild67, I hope you'll consider following me there. 


End file.
